Under the Canapé of Fallen Night- Prologue
by WaroftheWorldsWritter
Summary: The freezing desolate world of the infinitely complex vastness that never dies and thus never ends. The nothingness that hold the planets in line is the home of the blank creatures, far greater in wit and cunning than those crawling upon our terrestrial planet. Those ungodly creations looked upon our home with thirst, and desire for its resources.


No one would have believed in the early years of the 21st century…

The freezing desolate world of the infinitely complex vastness that never dies and thus never ends. The nothingness that hold the planets in line is the home of the blank creatures, far greater in wit and cunning than those crawling upon our terrestrial planet. Those ungodly creations looked upon our home with thirst, and desire for its resources. Their own home had been ravished by unforgiving solar storms, to which their population had diminished which in turn made their society to one of vultures; pecking and grasping at the scraps of vital, life-sustaining items that their planet had one been incredibly inhabited with. Those beings who evolved from a parasitic existence required to find another battlefield to fester and swarm, to drain the life of and to collect as their own, they needed to capture Earth in the last desperate attempt to survive another rotation around an intolerant star. And so with envious eyes they watched…

I recall the night before the attack in vivid detail. It was in the middle of winter, a great frost had swept over the land. Everywhere your eyes set foot was covered in the smallest of ice particles. The snow had made the landscape into a canvas of bleached pureness. In the sky heavy clouds roamed upon their stratospheric roads; they breathed down onto the land the faint chill of the year's end. From the heavens came Marbled White butterflies which landed on the thinnest blade of untouched grass, covering it with their icy wings. Soon they fell to earth, making a swarm of winged snow, fluttering ever so slowly to the harsh ground.

I was on a walk that night, I found that walking erased thoughts of an impure nature, it was cathartic, good from both mind and soul. It was strange but there was only one thought on my mind that evening (when I say thought, I should say fantasy). For you see, the image of myself entwined with someone else was one major recollection I pondered on. As I strolled along the leaf dusted path in the middle of wintertime, I clearly remembered myself entwined indeed, but it was something quite taboo.

Joseph Blackmore was a gentlemen I grew quite fond of. His characteristics were ones of a man of an excessive amount of confidence, boastful, arrogant, smug, brash, an impossible amount of choice come to mind when I think of him. But you see, the thing that turned my pupil about Joseph Blackmore was his charming nature, it was the way he smiled at me; there was something inside him that could be witnessed, but not publicly, no, Joseph (to me that is) seemed to show an affection towards me. It was strange, he seemed so hate filled, but whenever he was around me, he seemed to light up. Like something inside his spirit bursting into life. I am not denying that Joseph Blackmore was attractive, far from it, I found that he was one the most handsome persons I have ever met. The only thing that concerned me about Joseph was his inability to expresses his true emotions, well in time that changed.

Again, I would like to state that my minds drifts, my incapacity to focus on stepping one foot in front of the other is the reason this story is being told, not because I wish to share it. However I digress.

It was through a series of events which brought a private study session between myself and Joseph to existence. I shall admit that I was the one to conger this but again it's just baffle that I do not wish to dwell on. I was merely explaining the theory social Darwinism to my dear friend, the poor chap needed some help; I simply offered my services. In more aspects than others would. There was one unique moment that I remember, a moment when he was engaged in the book I provided. To me it was privacy within privacy, he mind was set on reading the written word in front him, rather than my company. I saw the text flicker in his eyes as his sharp blue iris twitched and sparkled inside the environment of the writing. I was lone at that point and he was lost to the pages. This gave me a chance to see him, for I could witness his well-ordered strands of pale, golden-gilded hair. I could see the insignificant parting of his lip, the gentle curve it made by the rosy flesh around it. To me it seemed that the divine light of the room bended toward him, but I know that is an impossibility, though still seems to be true. I viewed him, fully viewed him. And as he willed in the escapism from his book, his head rose.

My hand lifted by its own accord gravitated towards his hair, my fingers felt the colour of his indulgent mane. It felt sweet. My digits roamed through the entangled forest and grasped the back of his neck. Slowly my arm clenched; bringing his lips closer, my own skull tilted ever so slightly to the left and his to the right.

Just remembering that moment gave me hours of lonely entertainment, that moment when we kissed. However I wanted more, still, after that milestone, I wanted more. Another fantasy grew, our bodies turning, rolling, and merging under the canapé of fallen night. There is an impossible amount of lust for Joseph Blackmore that I myself fell slave for. The twilight was pushing the sky into inky darkness. The path, though still visible was at a standard where I felt inadequate to travel upon it. I was lost in both physical terms of location and by emotional terms of an adoration towards Joseph. The trees, sifted with products of the blizzard became a hostile world.

Then, in silence, I felt the time of universe halt. Minutes became hours, as the starting event of the demise of my own society unfolded. The sky which once was vast in an endless spectrum of profound sapphire slowly domed into harsh silver. Above me, in hellish flames flew an immense spherical object. It travelled across the sky with a grace as delicate as a marine mammal, a metallic whale, which the flicks of its fins became blazes of ginger gas. The pod enclosed the night's sky with its rounded body. It moved through the air and slowly arched towards the ground. It was like seeing the sunset for the second time as the seer perfection of its globular bulk landed behind the horizon of trees.

I don't know if it was curiosity or fate that made gravitate towards the impact site. All I know is that ended up voyaging towards the place where the pod had landed and thus settled.

Behind the barricade of charred vegetation rested the hull itself, the influence of the falling vessel had cause a crater to be formed. I swear god must have dug it for it was an impossible expansion of negative mass. In precisely the centre of the pit was the spherical object that came from the heavens, though the flames that once cocooned its exterior where now extinguished it left behind clouds of shadow fragmented dust.

The only way to describe what happened next was to express that the shell distorted and evolved into a consistency of water. Sluggishly the metal surface dripped with minuet droplets of grey water. The casing itself melted so that the protective shell liquefied into a puddle of aluminium coloured fluid.

As the lake of bubbling, molten metal festered at the bottom of the smoking crater, the hulk of the rest of ship started to develop. What was left behind, was a cluster of obscure, stone-like squares, all intersecting at different angles to one another. There sheen reflected the dark clouds which hung lifeless over-head. One by one they shifted ever so slightly, moving like tides, ever so slowly. Fragment of coloured light seemed to burst from the core of extra-terrestrial bolder. Ruby scattered across the plain of the woodland. Emerald greens clawed at the over turned soil, and roots of the carter banks. It was at that point that my consciousness seemed to fill my mind once again. The simple act of primary colours traveling through the obstacle of air was enough to restart my thought processes. It was then that I realised that my location was one in danger, though no threat had become apparent, something inside my being knew that my viewing passion wasn't safe; and so cautiously I marched back from that singed dwelling and ventured towards my own establishment.


End file.
